


More than a handful

by khaleesian



Category: Fast and the Furious Series
Genre: M/M, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-08
Updated: 2013-02-08
Packaged: 2017-11-28 14:59:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/675690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khaleesian/pseuds/khaleesian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brian appreciates all of Dom's assets.</p><p>Check out the awesome art by nanuk_dain</p>
            </blockquote>





	More than a handful

“Fuck.” Dom pawed through the debris that littered the floor. Christ, what  _was_  all this shit? Where did all this crap come from? He snatched up a t-shirt, nearly slipping on an old issue of _Car Craft_. He took a step backwards and nearly crushed a cell phone. “Motherfucker!”  
  
“Uhnhf?” the snowy-white comforter undulated and a singular hand poked out like a submarine periscope, before going limp again. Dom glared at the lump in the covers and then glared down at the t-shirt in his hands which was his size, looked like his, felt like  _his_ , but smelled distinctly like  **Brian’s**. Petulantly, Dom balled it up and tossed it at the overflowing hamper.  _Where the fuck were his goddamned shoes?_  
  
After another futile root around the tiny closet, Dom bit the bullet.  
  
“Brian.” Dom punctuated his question by grabbing a lump that he guessed was probably Brian’s foot. He shook it gently. “You seen my shoes?”  
  
There was a pause while the comforter bunched and buckled into a nominally more human shape. The hand curled over the edge and peeled back a layer revealing Brian’s baby-blues and tanned face, slightly flushed with sleep. Brian yawned like a jungle cat and repeated. “Shoes?”   
  
Dom took a deep breath through his nose and prayed for strength. “They go on your feet. While not being flip-flops.”  
  
Brian arched an arm over his head and snuggled into his palm. He rubbed his face with the other hand. He pointed vaguely at the foot of the bed. “Seems like they were…”  
  
“Boots, those are boots.” Dom cut him off. “I wanna go to the gym, have you seen  _those_  shoes?”  
  
Brian was blinking up at the ceiling, looking far away.   
  
“Am I still speaking in English?” Dom put just a hint of danger in his tone.   
  
Brian arched one eyebrow. “I was just thinking about the good old days.”  
  
Dom grimaced down at the crap strewn across their bedroom and then gave Brian a  **look**. “We have good old days?”   
  
“Yeah,” Brian said wryly. “Like five minutes ago, when I was still asleep.”  
  
Dom debated getting mad for a 10-count, then realized that was the wrong tack to handle Brian. “Just help me. 90% of this shit is yours, I think.”   
  
Brian tilted his chin down but instead of devilish, his grin was kind of sweet. He held up one finger and then rolled over onto his stomach and started fiddling around in the pile of laundry and detritus that seemed to shore up that side of the bed. He looked really tan against the white sheets.   
  
After a moment and a muffled ‘gotcha’, Brian emerged, brandishing a sneaker that was definitely Dom’s. He handed it to Dom like it was the Borg-Warner Trophy.   
  
“Thank you.” Dom pursed his lips. “Don’t suppose I need to mention that  **one**  shoe is about as useful as tits on a man?”  
  
Brian shook his head. “No faith.”  
  
Brian slid halfway off the bed to do a serious root underneath. The edges of Brian’s tan line made uncomfortably hot prickles of sweat break out under Dom’s arms. The sheet wasn’t leaving much to the imagination and typically when Brian got into a position like that…  
  
“Here you go, Cinderella.” Brian curled up until he was sitting on his heel and shoved the shoe into Dom’s tingling fingers. “Have fun at the ball.”   
  
As an afterthought, Brian reached up and gave Dom’s pectoral muscle a quick double squeeze like he was honking a bicycle horn before Dom had a second to protest.   
  
And then Brian paused. And tilted his head to the side.   
  
Dom’s lips curled back from his teeth. He wanted to pull back, stuff his feet in the shoes and take off, but Brian’s thumb was nudging the outside edge of his nipple and it was sending a disturbingly, tooth-gritting sensation right down his spine to his toes and out through the floor which felt hot suddenly for no good reason.   
  
“Ah.” Was not what Dom meant to say. What he meant to say was something like ‘Later.’ Or ‘See ya.’ Or ‘hands off the merch’.   
  
Brian now had both hands shoved up under Dom’s strained tank top. He was cupping Dom’s pecs and occasionally the tip of Brian’s thumbs brushed Dom’s jutting nipples almost casually in a way that made Dom want to peel off his own electric skin.   
  
“I never really appreciated this before.” Brian’s exhalation was thin, steamy heat on Dom’s sternum. “Most of my exes are…slimmer.” Brian cut his eyes up to Dom’s for a second and there,  **that**  was a devilish grin. “No offense.”  
  
“What the fuck are you doing?” Dom said without moving his lips. His mind was supplying him with a full- scale picture and diagram of exactly what Brian was doing, but his body was inclined to make counterarguments.   
  
“You got like a…C-cup.” Brian muttered into Dom’s chest. He pressed Dom’s pecs together creating an instant of definite cleavage. Dom would have belted him but for the fact that Brian was too close to get popped, because he had replaced his left thumb with his tongue. Dom hitched against the sense of sharp teeth pressed to tender skin. Brian didn’t bite, he just…nibbled.   
  
After Brian had taken a long, slow taste, he tilted back to look up at Dom. “Did I ever say you have an  **amazing rack**?” He punctuated his assertion with a gentle squeeze.   
  
Dom finally unfroze enough to wrap both his hands around Brian’s wrists. “You. Are. Not. Doing. This.”  
  
He tried to put a little beserker-rage into his expression so Brian would think twice before feeling him up again. But Brian just sat back and grinned at him. The edge of his tank top was cool and wet from Brian’s gnawing; it almost made him shiver.   
  
“You still going to the gym?” Brian ran his tongue slowly along his lower lip. Dom paused in the process of tugging on a shoe.   
  
Brian reclined back onto his elbows and pulled the sheet until all his own considerable assets were on display. “You know, I could give you a workout.”  
  
Dom exhaled slowly and toed his shoe back off. He placed both shoes very carefully in the closet, turned and said, “OK”.

 


End file.
